Audiobooks: Awesome or Awful?

I tried an audiobook once, years ago. I didn’t like it. I didn’t like the voices the narrator put on for the characters. I didn’t like the emphasis he used in sentences. It was all just wrong. I quickly gave up and never bothered again. Five minutes of one audiobook and I decided I didn’t like any of them.

But then.

This year I haven’t yet been able to finish a book. I’ve started several, but just… can’t… finish them. Turns out 2020 is messing with my mind too much and I haven’t been motivated or focused enough to actually want to read much.

So, I thought about audiobooks again. I thought about the fact I’d dismissed them outright, years ago, after trying and not getting on with one. I thought about the fact the one audiobook I tried was a book I was already very familiar with. I thought, what’s the harm in trying again?

I ended up choosing a book I had tried to read many, many years ago, but hadn’t read more than a chapter. I chose a book I recently watched and enjoyed the television adaptation of. I chose a book I didn’t really have any investment in or strong feelings on.

I’m just over halfway through and I’m actually enjoying it!

While I listen I usually cook, or wash pots, or do some colouring in. It’s actually really therapeutic. I will definitely be finishing this series via audiobook, and am looking forward to finding more audiobooks that work for me in the future!

Now the thing that annoys me about audiobooks is that amazon has the market cornered via audible, with so many books recorded exclusively for them. I am not an amazon fan, and avoid the company as much as possible. Wordery is my favoured alternative, along with local independent book shops.

If anyone has any audiobook recommendations—books you think work well or even better as audiobooks—please let me know.

And more than that, if anyone knows of any decent alternative to audible, I am desperate to hear about them! I’d love for my library to go digital, but alas, currently I am still left putting compact discs on hold.

Book Buying Analysis 2019

This is the third year running i’ve kept track of the books I buy, to throw all the data into a spreadsheet, make a pretty graph, and talk about how much money I spend on how many books from what places. I just find it interesting, okay? Previous years can be found here.

Other than one spectacular anomaly (which I’ll get to later), my two biggest spenders remain unchanged: Page 45 and Wordery. I’m nothing if not a faithful customer, apparently. But not to Waterstones this year—I didn’t buy a single book from them! I’m lumping all charity shops together this year, as there was no singular stand-out shop. Five Leaves, a local bookshop, and Troutmark, in Cardiff, both make a reappearance after being missing in 2018. At the Sign of the Dragon is a science fiction shop in Wigtown, which I could have spent hours longer in. And Stella and Rose Books… my anomaly.

Here are the numbers:

At the Sign of the Dragon
Total number of books bought: 8
Total cost: £30.99
Average price per book: £3.87

Charity
Total number of books bought: 10
Total cost: £23.97
Average price per book: £2.40

Five Leaves
Total number of books bought: 3
Total cost: £27.98
Average price per book: £9.33

Page 45
Total number of books bought: 7
Total cost: £79.93
Average price per book: £11.42

Stella Books
Total number of books bought: 3
Total cost: £80.00
Average price per book: £26.67

Troutmark
Total number of books bought: 3
Total cost: £10.50
Average price per book: £3.50

Wordery
Total number of books bought: 6
Total cost: £52.48
Average price per book: £8.75

Cumulatively, this is the damage:

2019 Totals:
Total number of books bought: 40
Total cost: £305.85
Average price per book: £7.65

And visually, we’re looking at this masterpiece of a bar chart:

Let’s start by addressing the anomaly in the room. I spent £80.00 on three books. This has skewed these numbers a bit, but oh well. I bought the Folio Society John Wyndham editions. Secondhand, because the Folio Society isn’t printing any more copies. So technically a ‘rare book’ purchase—my first, in fact. I regret nothing. This tipped November into my highest spend month, when in the previous two years I haven’t spent anything in November.

Expensive anomaly aside, October was my most active month, when I spent almost £78 on eight books. The two main shops I bought from were Page 45 and Five Leaves, both local independent bookshops who I am happy to support. I didn’t spend anything in the first two months of the year. Which differs hugely from the last two years, where both months were pretty big spending months. But I made up for it in March, with £45.47 spent in the second busiest month (discounting The Anomaly). And I was too busy enjoying the nice weather in June and July to buy any books, apparently.

Although Page 45 was were I spent a high chunk of money, on average the cost of each book was £11.42. That’s an improvement from last year’s average Page 45 book price of £15.99, but not quite as good as 2017’s £10.79. My average book price at Wordery is only going up: £7.91 in 2017, £8.51 in 2018, and now £8.75 in 2019. As a more reputable competitor to Amazon with free world wide shipping on all books, i’m more than happy with those numbers.

Objectively, May was by far and away my best month. I bought the most books (12), but spent the least per book on average (£3.15). Once again not including The Anomaly, my monthly averages aren’t bad, with April being the worst, where I bought two books, spending an average of £12.90 per book (two totally-worth it books—I just went to check what they were!).

Even with The Anomaly, my overall yearly spent was less than the two years previously. So i’m pretty chuffed with that. But I did buy my lowest number of books—only 40 compared to 2018’s 58 and 2017’s 46. And that’s pushed the average price per book to the highest in the last three years at £7.65.

Looking at the books I got, I think on the whole I bought with more purpose this year. I chose books I genuinely wanted, mostly from independent shops, by under-represented authors, and on interesting and important topics. Plus a whole bunch of cheap, incredible, secondhand science fiction. Oh, and those rare John Wyndhams. I may not have read every book I bought in 2019 yet, but I can safely say I regret none of them.

This analysis thing is getting interesting. The only consistent similarities are the places I spend the most money, and December being a no-buy month. Otherwise I feel like I’m a bit of a wildcard with my book buying habits. And I’m okay with that. Let’s see what my 2020 book buying brings… can I bring in my total cost at under £300? Will I buy another set of expensive rare books? Could I discover a new favourite bookshop? See you next year to find out!

Book vs Film: The Shining

I’ve written about film adaptations before, and how sometimes they can be better than their source material. But recently I decided I wanted to go a little deeper, and write more full-on analyses of books verses their cinematic counterparts. I do have a film degree, so I’ve decided to put it to use by creating this series. Don’t know how often it will be–at my whimsy, currently. But this was fun to write, and I want to do this again. So I will.

In an attempt to keep things fair and orderly, I’m breaking the comparison down into four broad sections: tone, characters, story, and craft. With The Shining, at least, I feel that these are the main areas to cover. When I do more of these in the future, I may end up adding or taking away sections. I’m open to improving the formula.

Book: The Shining Author: Steven King Year: 1977
Film: The Shining Director: Stanley Kubrick Year: 1980

I’ve been a horror fan since I was a (very) young kid, getting my teeth into countless horror films and books before I was even 10. So, when I tell you I wasn’t impressed with The Shining when I first watched it (years before I first read the book), just know it wasn’t because I didn’t like horror or hadn’t already enjoyed a hell of a lot of horror films. I can’t remember the specifics of what I thought at the time, because it was so long ago. I just remember the film feeling pretty… empty and insubstantial. And I think I was put off reading the book for a number of years after that. But when I did read the book, I ended up loving it. I found it genuinely scary and several moments in particular have stayed with me since.

When I re-read the book this month, it rekindled my aversion to the film. The film is wildly popular, raved about by cinema critics, and touted as a classic… but I just don’t see it. I discussed it with a few people who also didn’t love the film so much, and decided, in the name of fairness, to give the film a second go too. When the notebook and pen came out, I knew a book vs film analysis was going to be written…

Tone
The tone is what I’m most impressed with from the film. It immediately sets the mood with chilling music and grand, scenic cinematography. And this holds up throughout the film. At a couple of points the music gets a little too high pitched, but overall the music is wonderfully creepy, building the tension and putting me on edge. There are some incredible shots in the film, and in fact the cinematography throughout the film is perfection. It’s one of the first films to have used a steadicam, and it’s used brilliantly. Following Danny racing around the empty hotel in his trike, long single-shot scenes across large rooms, and getting lost in the hedge maze… they look amazing and they also help emphasise the enormous space and how isolated the family are in it.

Of course, the book doesn’t have music or cinematography to help set the mood of the story, only words. But it manages it. The descriptions of the wind howling around the outside of the hotel; the feeling of going from a hotel full of people, to a family of three with lots of space to explore, then gradually to individual isolation from each other; there is also the internal struggles of the characters and how and why they deal with the deteriorating situation. The fact that the book manages to make hose pipes, topiary animals, and playgrounds scary is a sure sign it’s getting the horror right. It also excels at building the tension. At first there is ebb and flow—tension and release—but as the story unfolds the tension mounts until I could barely read a chapter without needing a breather.

Characters
The characters in the book are complex, multifaceted, and sympathetic. I felt for them all, in various ways. Danny’s innocence and emotional maturity, Wendy’s self-awareness and determination, Dick’s easy-going nature and effortless likeability. Jack is by far the most complex character, between who he wants and is trying to be, and who he finds it too easy to be when he stops trying. It is these characters, their histories, and their choices that add meaning and depth to the story. As well as helping to provide a satisfying, but still open to some interpretation, ending to the book.

Meanwhile, in the film… the characters leave a lot to be desired. Danny is a mumbling vacant child reduced to a bit part, Wendy too quickly becomes a simpering mess only capable of screaming and shaking her head, Dick is firm and defensive with no clear reason to want to brave the snowstorms to save the family.

And Jack. He’s not helped being played by Jack Nicholson, who is a strong actor, but has such a singular presence, that he seems to bring very little subtly to the role. His performance later in the film, when Jack has completely lost his mind and is hell bent on murder, is great. However, his performance is lacking at the start of the film; everything he says sounds sarcastic and I can’t tell if he’s supposed to mean what he says or if he’s just a dick character all around.

There is just so little insight into Jack as a character—his troubled childhood, his troubled adulthood, and his troubled fatherhood. We’re given facts—he’s an alcoholic on the wagon and he once dislocated his son’s shoulder—but there is no emotional investment into his character; we see none of his inner turmoil, which was so vital to the story in the book. There is also no investment into the relationship he has with Danny… in fact they don’t even interact other than a few lines and one very awkward, creepy scene where Danny sits on his knee. That relationship was so vital to every member of the family’s character in the book, but in the film it’s barely a footnote.

Ultimately, I didn’t care about any of the characters in the film.

Story
In the book the story is very much linked to the characters. What happens and why depends a lot on the characters’ motivations, beliefs, and choices. Danny knows the Overlook Hotel holds bad things, but loves his dad and understands he needs the job so makes no attempt to stop them from going. Jack being manipulated by the hotel and its ghosts into horrendous acts he would never have be driven to otherwise (or would he?).

The book also has great pacing, switching between character point of views, showing the family’s lives over months, gradually shrinking their world down until it’s just the three of them in the hotel… alone with its own malicious characters.

And of course, all that insight and build up pay off with an ending that is wonderfully weaved together in many ways (foreshadowing and threads of details all paying off), but also very open to interpretation (exactly how much did the hotel manipulate Jack, and how much was who he really was, deep inside?). It left me satisfied while also left me with thoughts to chew on.

The film’s story is much simpler… because it lacks the character depth, and leaves only the cold facts shown on screen. Man goes mad and tries to butcher his family. The end.

One part of the story I really think the film failed on was Tony. Tony is Danny’s “imaginary friend”. In the film he lives in Danny’s mouth and involves a crooked finger for some reason. That is… pretty much the extent of that. Without the full insight into Tony—who he actually is and his relationship with Danny—there seems little point to him in the film? He simply makes Danny seem a bit weirder for his shine… perhaps even possessed.

Another part of the story I can’t fully get behind is killing Dick of immediately after he gets to the Overlook. Now, killing him I’m not opposed to. In all honesty, I half think King chickened out of going that far in the book, after he set it up with Dick sorting his will out immediately before he gets the call from Danny. But. But having him trek all the way across the country, just to stick an axe in his chest the minute he arrives seems… frivolous. He comes to rescue Danny, but they never even set eyes on each other? There is no meaning in his death—it’s just for a bit of gore and to up the minuscule body count.

The pacing also seems very off in the film, with all the main action and turning points taking place in one 24 hour period. It’s very slow and steady for the most part, setting the tone and creeping into this eerie and peculiar place. Then everything happens in a single day. The woman in room 237, Lloyd, Jack drinking, Grady, the pantry, the bathroom… all in one night. It makes the story feel very uneven, and without the character and emotional depth it’s all just for show with no meaning behind it.

Craft
The book, while not King’s best writing, is pretty solid. It’s evocative, memorable, creepy in the right way, and is easy to read without being simplistic. The alternating points of view give a wide insight into the characters and the story, as well as help with pacing and plot progression. There is some subtle and some not-so-subtle foreshadowing, though all the threads play out well even if it was obvious what was coming—it’s how they got there that was the more interesting part.

I also love the parallels between the play Jack is working on and his state of mind. His thoughts on and feelings towards the play mirror that in reality, in a way. Those characters are a way for him to relate to himself and those around him. When he’s feeling in control of himself and genuine with his past, he is in control of his characters and has insight into their motivations. When he’s angry, out of control, and making excuses for his behaviour, he hates his characters and finds their actions insufferable.

Neither the book nor the film aged well in some respects, and namely the use of some choice language. They bother suffer, in that regard, of being a child of their time… but it’s still uncomfortable.

The craftsmanship of the film is a mixed bag. My favourite part is probably the reveal of the writing Jack has been working on. Spending hours and days alone with his type writer, tapping away… When Wendy rifles through the pages to find the same line, typed over and over again in different formats… pages and pages of it. That is the kind of detail and insight the film needed more of. It showcased Jack’s state of mind, without him even being in the room (read: without Nicholson’s eyebrows, stink eye, and sarcastic voice). The only problem is it comes too late in the game, and is conspicuous by its solitariness… there are no other interesting moments like this.

Letting the film down the most, in my opinion, is the acting. I’m not going to blame this all on the actors, either… partly to blame is the dialogue and the directing. A lot of the dialogue is awkwardly unnatural, with long pauses between speech and no natural rhythm of conversation. The best lines where the ones lifted directly from the book, honestly.

There were a couple of jump scares, with a scene cutting abruptly to a title card “Monday” along with a sudden jolt to a high pitched, tense musical note. And I just found those wholly cheap.

The film does have some iconic scenes, and I do believe that is mostly down to cinematography. The bloody elevator, the girls in the corridor, redrum, Jack frozen in the snow… and of course, “Here’s Johnny!” (but… who the fuck is Johnny??)… they’re memorable because they look good. Just a single frame captures the essence of the scene. And I do love the idea of Danny literally running circles around his dad in that hedge maze.

Final Thoughts
I can understand why the film gets talked about so much. Cinematically, it has done some really incredible things. Visually and musically alone I can see why it became a classic. The mood and build up created by the cinematography and soundtrack is incredible… but there is so little to the story of the thing. Ultimately the film feels hollow.

The film is highly over-analysed and theorised about, and I understand that, too… because there is so little of substance. I love an open or ambiguous ending, but the film leaves the audience with so little material to actually work with. Of course, anyone who actually wants the answers could simply read the book…

Ultimately, I would argue the film is very much full of style, but has no substance. It looks stunning, but scratch the surface and there is nothing of significance underneath. And I’ve found this with the other few Kubrick films I’ve seen. I would happily watch any of them again… on mute, in the background, while I was doing something else.

 

Winner: The Book

 

Do you agree? Have any arguments to add? Was there something I missed? Let’s have a friendly debate in the comments!

Finding Time

Time is something most people wish they had more of. The wonderful things we imagine we’d do if only we had more time. But we’re always too busy with work, kids, commitments.

Yet we make time for some things. As a book lover, I make time to read. As a blogger, I make time to write. Sometimes making the time is easier than others, but it’s always time I want to make.

I will go to bed an hour early to lay there reading my book. I’ll read on the bus to work. I’ll read on my lunch break. When all the household chores are done I’ll spend an evening on my laptop, writing a book review. If plans get cancelled or I find myself with a free Sunday afternoon, I’ll sit with my notebook, planning out a blog post.

Sometimes, when I’ve had a busy day or a stressful week, I can’t find the energy. Instead I’ll just want to watch a comedy show or an action film with my partner while eating chocolate and snuggling the cat.

And that’s fine.

But when it’s hard to find the time and energy to read and write I’m often left feeling guilty that I don’t manage to. When I set aside the time, but end up down a youtube hole watching empty house tours and Marvel fan theories instead.

Recently, though, a large chunk of time has opened up for me. I’ve gone from working five days a week down to three. Two whole days a week to embrace and use how I want. And I want to write.

Giving myself the evenings to have guilt-free what-ever-I-feel-like time, I want to make the most of the two seven hours days I’ve suddenly found myself with. I have other hobbies and goals I hope to achieve with some of that time, but a large chunk I want to spend focused on reading and writing and embracing the enjoyment I get from that.

Largely, I’m making this post as a way to hold myself publicly accountable. I can’t waste this time I’ve given myself. I won’t allow it.

It’s time.

Book Buying Analysis 2018

In 2017 I kept track of all the books I bought, and at the end of the year I compiled all the data and wrote a post about it. Well, it should be no surprise that in 2018 I kept hold of all the receipts, all the confirmation emails, and all the delivery slips for every book I purchased so I could do the same thing all over again. What’s a bit of analysis if you can’t compare at least two sets of year end data?

Thankfully I still had the spreadsheet my more numbers-minded partner created last year, so it was fairly easy to input the new figures and extract the important data. The graph proved a pain in the proverbial, but it came together in the end, and no number crunching is truly complete without a pretty picture of it.

And so, the numbers.

My three top suppliers remain unchanged: Page 45, Waterstones, and Wordery. The only others I really thought worth mentioning were Abe Books, where I bought 5 secondhand books; Story Bundle, where a particular theme might catch my interest now and again; and three UK cities, where I visited a bunch of independent bookshops (Brighton, Cardiff, and Edinburgh). Laid out, here’s the damage:

Abe Books:
Total number of books bought: 5
Total cost: £14.41
Average price per book: £2.88

Independent Brighton:
Total number of books bought: 2
Total cost: £12.99
Average price per book: £6.50

Independent Cardiff:
Total number of books bought: 3
Total cost: £13.50
Average price per book: £4.50

Independent Edinburgh:
Total number of books bought: 7
Total cost: £63.46
Average price per book: £9.07

Page 45:
Total number of books bought: 6
Total cost: £95.93
Average price per book: £15.99

Story Bundle:
Total number of books bought: 10
Total cost: £11.20
Average price per book: £1.12

Waterstones:
Total number of books bought: 4
Total cost: £38.96
Average price per book: £9.74

Wordery:
Total number of books bought: 10
Total cost: £85.10
Average price per book: £8.51

And including the few other places I bought an odd book, the 2018 totals look like this:

2018 Totals:
Total number of books bought: 58
Total cost: £366.48
Average price per book: £6.32

But numbers are meaningless without colourful graphs, so let’s show off the hard work I put into this one:

For reasons I cannot fathom, July was my busiest book-buying month, with £115.78 spent on 17 books, though at an average of £6.81 a book, that’s not too bad, right? February, May, and October are close on July’s heels with £76.35, £61.85, and £53.97 spent respectively. Perhaps one of the best months, objectively, was March, with £24.19 spent on 12 books, which makes an average of £2.02 a book!

The most books I bought from one supplier was a tie between Story Bundle and Wordery, with 10 from each. But with average book costs of £1.12 and £8.51 respectively, Story Bundle was by far a better deal! Just like last year, Page 45 is my biggest wallet drainer, with £95.93 spent on 6 books, making them a whopping £15.99 each on average. As an independent store selling top quality and high priced graphic novels, Page 45 will always be my biggest spend—and I have no regrets about that.

Let’s do a little compare and contrast with 2017.

My average monthly spend was £30.54. More than last year’s £26.88, but I did spend £44 extra and bought 12 more books than in 2017… so things were always going to look worse.

In 2017 my busiest book buying month was far and away January, where I spent over double compared to any other month. July has been the busiest month in 2018, but without that runaway lead… and I barely spent £20 in January. Considering I spent more money on more books in 2018, there are also more months where I didn’t buy any books at all. Five whole months where not a single book came into my possession, compared to only two in 2017. The one thing that stands out clearly, though, is that in both years November and December are no-go months for book buying. I could speculate that this is because I’m too busy buying books as christmas presents, or not wanting to disturb my wishlist ahead of christmas… but I honestly don’t know why.

As fun and interesting as this is, I still haven’t spotted any real trends or patterns yet. Oh well, let’s see how 2019 goes…

Write or Wrong?

A brand new pristine book—it needs to be kept that way, right? No breaking the spine, no dog-earring corners, no staining the pages, and certainly no writing in it!

But… why?

I mean, I get it. I used to feel exactly the same way. Books are precious and should be preserved. We take pride in our books, how they look, and how much we love them.

Thing is, it’s not the books themselves that are important—it’s the words they contain.

I have always been one to read and reread certain lines and passages in books that—for a variety of reasons—stood out to me. Maybe they struck a chord with me, maybe they amused me just so, maybe they were just perfectly constructed, or maybe they were a wonderful bit of character development. Whatever the reason I loved it, I would stop and read it several times over to absorb a little of the magic and just truly appreciate the writing.

This habit has since evolved.

When I started blogging, I also started properly recording the quotes that caught my fancy. I started pausing in my reading to type them up and post them on my tumblr. I love being able to scroll through the quotes I’ve shared and re-read them at my leisure, or search for specific quotes and from particular books.

This did cause problems, though; I didn’t always like having to stop reading in order to type up and share the quotes. I tried various methods to get around this. I’d wait until the end of a chapter to go back and find them… except I’d get caught up in the story and forget. I’d take a photo of the quote to sort out later… except then I’d take dozens of photos of my cat and the quote would get lost amongst the adorableness. I’d dog-ear pages (don’t shoot me!) to go back to… except by that time I’d’ve finished the book and couldn’t remember or find the specific quote on the page.

No. The best method that worked—and continues to work—is writing in my god damn books. Underlining a line or two, or marking the margin of a particular passage. It’s so much easier to flick back to them, they are clearly denoted, and the act of marking them also marks a memory in my mind to go back and type them up.

I did start with pencil, but it only took a single occasion of not having one handy for me to progress to pen. Really, I like the idea of re-reading a book and seeing all the parts that struck me previously—will they still resonate with me? And the idea of sharing the book with someone else—wondering what they will think of the parts I’ve highlighted.

I’m sure as I continue to deface my books I’ll evolve into leaving more little notes and thoughts and doodles. I look forward to that natural progression.

Because for me, a pristine book is an admired object, but a worn, annotated book is a story the reader has truly engaged with, taken from, and left something of themselves behind in.

That’s what reading is for me. Not a perfect ornament on a shelf, but fully absorbing the words and concepts contained within.

Feel free to leave a comment expressing your shock and despair at my graffiti practises, or share with me your own way of annotating books!

When the Book Isn’t Better

The age-old adage: “Don’t judge a book by its movie” or “The book was better.” As bibliophiles we completely agree, right? The book has more depth, more detail, more character development, more complex plot… just more.

But what about when the book isn’t better?

Hear me out.

Some books, while having a great story, or world, or bunch of characters can still be… not great. But that spark of interesting can make an awesome film. Or maybe the essence, the heart, the soul, the meaning of a book isn’t captured to its full potential, but that essence translates better and more genuinely on screen.

It happens. Let me list a few!

Candyman/The Forbidden
I really loved the short story The Forbidden, and it had such an atmosphere and creepy vibe. The film captures that so freaking well. The film also has the opportunity to expand on the mythology and characters and atmosphere… I prefer it just because it adds more to the story.

The Maze Runner
I slogged my way through one and half of the books—they’re terrible. Like, objectively awful. The writing is atrocious and utterly cringe-worthy. But the plot? The mystery is so amazingly addictive. I adore the ideas and the world created. I’ve seen all three films, and while the third dragged and was overall a bit disappointing, they were all entirely more enjoyable than the books.

The Godfather
Honestly, the only reason I prefer the film is because the sexism is nowhere near as prominent and obvious as it is in the book. The book’s sexism made me angry!

The War of the Worlds
A more controversial choice, perhaps. While the film isn’t ground breaking, it’s a perfectly adequate action-packed thriller. I think it’s better than the book because I found the book quite emotionless. It read like an action list, like an outline for a book. This happens, that happens, then something else happens. There was no connection or motivation with the characters—the film managed to include that while also keeping the plot and drama interesting.

Girl, Interrupted
The author of this “true story” is just so whiny and annoying. The film, thankfully, is spared that!

What Dreams May Come
This was one of my favourite films for a long time. The idea that love conquers all, even death. I hadn’t known it was based on a book, but of course I read it as soon as I found out. While some aspects of the book were fascinating, the big climactic romance scene was such a poor, disappointing, and disgusting depiction of love. The main character reduces his wife to the chores and services she offers, rather than the connection they share—and it ruined the entire book for me.

Life of Pi
I enjoyed the book, but I did struggle through it. And the film was just beautiful as hell!

Are there any films you prefer to the book they’re based on? Or do you think i’m a monster for the very idea that they can better? Let me know in the comments!

Favourite Words

I love reading and I love writing. When you get down to it, I love words. The way they sound, how they look, the way they feel in my mouth, the action of writing them. Fitting them together to make sentences and expand meaning. The fact they make communication possible and how you can commit to paper what was previously just abstract thought.

Yeah. I love words.

Therefore I thought it only fitting that I use some words to help express my love for them. Specifically, my love for some of my very favourite words. Everyone has favourite words, right? That’s a totally normal thing?

Aesthetic – I just like the way it feels on the tongue. It makes me use every part of mouth and I really enjoy saying it out loud.

Ergo – A word not used enough. Simple, but somehow still more interesting than ‘therefore’.

Superfluous – It sounds almost bougie, but I like that about it. The word itself seems like excessive and unnecessary.

Awesome – Because it describes me perfectly! But really, this word has helped me be more self-confident and appreciate myself for who I am.

Schadenfreude – I love the German language (not that I can speak it); they have some of the best words and this is just one of them. I love this word, and this feeling…

I work as a medical secretary and i’ve found a lot of my favourite words while working. There are some fascinatingly strange and wonderful words to be found in the medical world. I’ve limited myself to my top four.

Ophthalmology – It’s the ph and th right there at the start that I love about this word. It’s a bit of a tongue bender and I love hearing people mispronounce it!

Amitriptyline – Because I haven’t yet met a doctor who can spell it correctly. They know there’s a Y in there amongst all those Is, but they’re never quite sure where it goes.

Clopidogrel – There are two pronunciations of this, and I only love one of them:
Clopid-oh-grel = Boring
Clopey-dog-rel = Amusing

Epididymis – This is a sperm duct in the testicles, but regardless of that, I just think it’s a fun word!

Words are wonderful, varied things and I love learning new ones. I purposely left ‘moist’ off of my list, because the main reason I like it is because so many people don’t! Please share some of your favourite words in comments and tell me why you like them!

On Giving Up

I’ve always had trouble giving up on books. Once I start them I find it hard to abandon them, even when i’m really just not enjoying them. I was faced with this dilemma recently, when I was about 150 pages from the end of The City of Mirrors. Despite five-star loving the first two books in the series, the final book wasn’t working for me. I wanted to give up, but i’d put so much time and effort into reading the previous 2,300 pages of the series, I felt it would be a waste to stop so close to the end. I compromised by skim-reading the last 150 pages.

This experience really got me thinking about not finishing books, and giving up on books that just aren’t your thing. At what point is a book “bad enough” to quit? At what point does a book become irredeemable? I think the answer depends on the reader—their own priorities and feelings.

For me I think the biggest reason I don’t give up on books more often is FOMO. I fear missing out on an amazing ending, or an incredible plot twist, or a brilliant bit of character development. For me it’s the “what if?” that keeps me reading books i’m not loving.

When reading a book I’m not enjoying I slow down. It takes me ages to finish a book that’s not doing it for me. And I realise that the time i’m wasting on those books should leave me worried about missing out on other good books… but somehow I just don’t feel FOMO in that direction.

More often than not there will be something about a book that I like and want to follow through on. Characters and what happens to them, the plot and how it concludes, general questions I want answers to. Hope is not a bad thing, and giving up on books often feels like giving up hope. This can make the prospect of not finishing a book demoralising rather than liberating.

For me, I think, a book has to be so bad it’s worn me down to the point where I no longer have hope. My personal threshold for books being good enough to finish is pretty high. For other people it’s pretty low, and in many ways I envy that decisiveness and ability to so easily move on. However my tolerance has declined a little; there was a time I would never not finish a book, but I’ve left three books unfinished in the last five years. While that sounds like nothing, it’s impressive for me.

Maybe in time i’ll get more ruthless. Maybe i’ll learn to cut ties earlier if a book is not impressing me enough, before I get too invested in seeing it through. Maybe i’m just too easy to please. This rambling has got me nowhere, really, and i’m still not sure how exactly I feel about not finishing books. Huh. Oh well.

What’re your feelings on not finishing books you aren’t enjoying? Do you have criteria a book needs to fulfil before you give up? Should it have you hooked by page 50 or it’s off to the charity shop? Is it too late to give up once you’re invested, even if it’s a drag? Give me your tips and thoughts!

Stories: Short & Sweet

It’s no secret i’m a lover of short stories. I’m also aware that a lot of other people aren’t. My love of short stories is so easy and natural that it baffles me a little why other people don’t seem to enjoy them as much as I do. I can’t understand what it is about them that’s unappealing. This left me wanting to articulate the reasons I think short stories are brilliant, so I had a go.

Most obviously, there is less commitment in reading a short story, and therefore a much quicker pay off. I can read a short story in minutes. I can experience the wonder, the tragedy, the humour, of a single narrative much more swiftly than with the commitment of reading an entire book. Even if I don’t enjoy the story, I haven’t wasted hours or days of my life reading it. They’re like chapters of a book, but with an entire set up and conclusion in each.

You get to the good stuff quicker because the whole story is the good stuff. Novels can take pages and pages and chapters and chapters to really get your teeth into, but short stories are wham and you’re there. Linked to this is the fact they draw you into the world and the characters so much quicker—you’re made to care and get invested from the get go, which leaves you no time to get bored.

Every word has to count in a short story. They’re not the place to wax lyrical about unimportant side notes or superfluous details. Everything mentioned in a good short story will add something to the narrative. It might be plot, character, mood—whatever the important things are to get across, and whatever it is the author is trying to convey in the small time they have your attention. It all matters.

My very favourite kind of short stories often have some sort of twist or unexpected revelation at the end. Something that makes you view the whole story in a new light, and makes a second read a whole new experience. It’s almost like you get two stories in one, and it can add such depth to such a short narrative. Of course, novels can have twists and turns and revelations, but re-reading short story is a much simpler task. There have been times i’ve finished a short story and gone straight back to the beginning to start it again. As much as i’ve loved any novel, i’ve never wanted re-read it immediately.

I find short stories can often make the reader work harder. The more thought and attention you put into a short story, the more satisfaction you get out of it. Novels can often over explain, or spell things out too much over time, but short stories won’t make it that easy for you. They give you all the pieces, but you might have to ponder on them before they fit together. They might, for example, not answer all the questions the story raises. They might leave the ending ambiguous or open to interpretation. I love endings like that anyway (be it novel, film, TV, whatever), but in a short short it forces you to take stock of the information you have been given and find new and extended meaning in it.

I just really love short stories okay? But don’t just take my rambling, biased word for it. Let these wonderful quotes persuade you to reading more short story collections…

A short story is a different thing altogether – a short story is like a quick kiss in the dark from a stranger.

– Stephen King

A short story must have a single mood and every sentence must build towards it.

– Edgar Allan Poe

Short fiction seems more targeted – hand grenades of ideas, if you will. When they work, they hit, they explode, and you never forget them.

– Paolo Bacigalupi

A short story is confined to one mood, to which everything in the story pertains. Characters, setting, time, events, are all subject to the mood. And you can try more ephemeral, more fleeting things in a story – you can work more by suggestion – than in a novel. Less is resolved, more is suggested, perhaps.

– Eudora Welty

A short story is the ultimate close-up magic trick – a couple of thousand words to take you around the universe or break your heart.

– Neil Gaiman

My advice would be this: Don’t get all up in your head thinking short-short stories have to be poetry without the line breaks. Don’t put on your beret. Just tell a story, an actual story. Quick, while they’re still listening.

– Rebecca Makkai

A short story…can be held in the mind all in one piece. It’s less like a building than a fiendish device. Every bit of it must be cunningly made and crafted to fit together perfectly and without waste so it can perform its task with absolute precision. That purpose might be to move the reader to tears or wonder, to awaken the conscience, to console, to gladden, or to enlighten. But each short story has one chief purpose, and every sentence, phrase, and word is crafted to achieve that end.

– Michael Swanwick